


Kidnapping Zelda Harkinian

by ctj



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda (Video Game 1986)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Enjoy nerds, F/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Tingle sells pirated DVDs, and "Magic Beans" takes on a whole new meaning, but also very serious moments, but hear me out:, contains gratuitous bickering, he narrates like Holden Caulfield, in this story a fckboy learns to love, it's an old fic, so it gets a little John Green at moments, zelgan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-06-05 19:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6719770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ctj/pseuds/ctj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My name's Ganon Dragmire, and this is the story of the time I was blackmailed into breaking a girl's heart. </p><p>Granted, she was an uptight girl. Kind of a brat. There was a time when I'd have told you she deserved it. But that was back before I knew the weight of the secrets she carried, back before I learned about a reincarnation cycle centuries old. </p><p>And it was long, long before I dreamed that I'd ever fall in love- especially so honestly, and especially with her. Ganon/Zelda, Prep School AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally posted on FFN in 2013)

Chapter 1: _Introduction_

It would probably be best for me to start off with a simple disclaimer.

I didn't want to do it.

It just… well, it just sort of happened.

You seem pretty trustworthy, so I'm not going to sugar-coat anything. I've always hated when people do that, anyway. Besides, I couldn't do that if I wanted to. Guess I just haven't got the skill for it. I'm not a hell of a writer- I mean, I've done a bit of studying here and there, but words like _diction_ and _syntax_ all get scrambled up sometimes, and in the end, they don't matter, anyway.

What matters is that I've got a story that needs telling, and I know that if I don't do it, then no one else will. And you know what? People need to know what happened at Hyrule City Academy in the winter of 2013. And more importantly, they need to know _why_. _Whys_ are a lot more important than _whats_ if you ask me.

This is usually the part where people introduce themselves. If you even care about that sort of thing, then it'd probably please you to know that my full name is Ganondorf Dragmire- don't make fun of it, I already know it's a shit name- and that I'm sixteen years old, and that I am a screw-up. And if you're wondering how that can possibly be considered anything to go on, then you should know that _I'm_ still not sure who the hell I am, so it's not like anything I've got to say is going to be any help to you in the long run.

But enough about me. I'm not important. I'm probably the least-important person in the entirety of Hyrule City, but I'll leave that up to you. I know people that would claim otherwise, and I also know of a few books that would claim otherwise- which is probably confusing to you right now, but that's okay, because it'll make sense soon enough.

Anyway, picture this in your head: there's this street, right? And it stretches from where you're standing all the way to the chain-link fence way on the other side. It's a pretty cloudy day- you know, the bleak kind that makes cities look a lot worse than they actually are. And against those clouds you can see a bunch of run-down buildings. They're framing both sides of the street, actually, and there's a beat-up old basketball hoop to your right, and to your left is this kid. Okay, this kid's probably in a leather jacket from gods-know-where, he's got messy red hair and dilapidated sneakers and under one arm is a basketball.

Okay. Now freeze. This kid is me, and ten minutes ago he got a yearbook thrown at his head by his sister, Nabooru, who, by the way, is apeshit insane. But you can take that up with her. He- well, _I-_ got a yearbook thrown at my head because I decided to be the World's Biggest Idiot while doing a favor for Nabooru the Apeshit Insane. It had to do with answering emails. Unfreeze.

It happened so many months ago now that the details are starting to get kind of fuzzy. But I can give you the details if you want- background details- _exposition_ , but that's just more of that language arts bull. Anyway, my crazy sister Nabooru ("affectionately" known as Nabs) had decided one afternoon near the tail end of summer that she didn't feel like answering her email, and somehow, the burden had fallen upon yours truly. Now, I should let you know that the only reason Nabooru had a computer was because it was a fancy _school_ computer, and the only reason she even went to a fancy school in the first place was because besides being the craziest human being to walk the face of the earth, Nabs was also the most uptight person to walk the face of the earth, thus her killer work ethic.

Early on in her pursuit of glory- and probably world domination- Nabs had accumulated all of the young Gerudo women she could find and had formed the Organization for the Rights of Gerudo Youth. Being one of the only families of Gerudo descent in Hyrule City, Nabs had been quick to pull the race card on poor old HCA (that's short for _Hyrule City Academy_ ), and had convinced them that if they were handing out scholarships to Zora and Goron minorities, then so too must they hand them out to Gerudo. No sooner had she cried "Alas! Social injustice!" than HCA ambassadors had shown up at the front door- like, _literally at the front door-_ offering her a full ride because _boy_ did the Organization for the Rights of Gerudo Youth look good on a resume!

I was quick to disagree. In my opinion, an association with initials that spelled out _orgy_ was bound to leave a very _bad_ impression on a resume, but that did nothing but cause Nabs to get royally pissed off, which actually resulted in an accusation that Mayhaps Nabooru Was PMSing, which of _course_ led to cries of "sexism!" Needless to say, I lost that argument, and I _also_ lost my privilege to using her computer-

A privilege that I gained back within the next year, as soon as Nabs decided that she didn't feel like answering her own school emails anymore. Don't ask me why. I actually think it might have had something to do with her being up to her nose in schoolwork, and not having time for anything else- just like she didn't have any time for the family she was legally in charge of.

Now would probably be a good time to elaborate on another thing: you see, we don't live with our parents anymore. Nabs is eighteen and is technically our legal guardian, although I guess you could say that Aveil- the second oldest sister- is the real "mother" of the group. She's the one who's always taken care of us ever since our mom died. Then you've got Sirbe and Abenu, the two littlest- well, I say _little_ when actually they're thirteen and eleven, but you get the idea.

While Nabooru was busy receiving her education in a castle in the nice part of Hyrule City, the rest of the family (sans Aveil) was attending the local city school. I don't want to make that place sound like a dump, but it was a dump.

I'm not embarrassed to be from the "bad side" of town, and I never have been. But I've also got sense enough to know that being poor hasn't made me special- Nabs is the only one who ever got tricked into thinking that way, and to this day, it still confuses me a bit that she ever got so far as to confuse herself with technicalities like that. She's always been one to separate people based on what's on the surface.

I used to do that, too.

Anyway, so let's jump forward in time a bit to the bleak, cloudy day in early fall that I got a yearbook thrown at my head. Now, I was sitting in my cramped bedroom, legs dangling off of the bed with Nabs' school computer nestled in my lap. The last light of day was filtering in through dusty blinds, and every now and again this el train would rattle past the window and make the whole room rumble and shake.

In front of me was Nabs' email inbox. And there was one particular email in there that had caught my eye- it was from HCA's headmaster, and it was explaining to dear old Nabooru that Congratulations, She was at the top of her class, She qualified for the class presidency, Would she be interested in running, I am, &c., Headmaster so and so. And so forth.

Okay, so it's probably not too hard to imagine my temptation when I read that. Oh, the possibilities! This was a golden opportunity that any classic screw-up such as myself would jump at in a heartbeat. I figured that this was Nabooru's perfect Segway from Typical Prep Student into Ruthless World Dictator- you know, I knew from the start that she would go mad with power, so I just figured, hell, go with it- and so my response to the headmaster's email was of course very delicately worded.

_Headmaster,_

_I accept your invitation to smite bitches and take the throne with enthusiasm._

_Sincerely,_

_Nabooru Dragmire._

Well, boo-frickin'-hoo for me, because little did I know that a.) not only did the academy headmaster have absolutely no sense of humor whatsoever, but b.) neither did Nabooru. And not to mention the catch, c.) No HCA student was supposed to disclose the details of their digital accounts or records to anybody other than themselves except with written permission from the academy itself, and Nabooru of course had been busted, and her flawless record had been tainted- all because of me.

That wasn't to say that she lost her shot at class president. On the contrary, she'd secured it- or, rather, I'd secured it for her- and she was well on her way to Senior Class Dictator- uh, _president_ \- long before I even entered the picture.

But of course she was upset at my "irresponsibility" and "immaturity," cue the outrage, cue the angry spitting and stomping, and of course, cue the yearbook.

It appears we've come full circle.

After awhile Nabooru calmed down. She called me downstairs into the dirty little kitchen. I could tell she was still upset when I got down there because her voice was really flat when she spoke. Hey, at least she wasn't trying to murder me.

"I've come to a decision regarding your punishment," she told me, her words cold and unforgiving. "If I'm going to run for class president- as you have decided I will- then I want you to win for me."

This of course made no sense whatsoever.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound too bitter.

"There's only one other student running for senior class president this year," Nabooru explained. "She's got the highest marks in the class and has got an outstanding resume- rivaling mine, I'd reckon."

Now I was even more confused. "Well, what the hell does that have to do with me?"

"I want you to ruin her chances. Elections are in the beginning of January- three months from now- and I need to be way ahead of her by then. I was thinking, I need something big, something a little dicey, something that will ruin this girl. And then, Ganon, well, then I thought of you."

"Because I ruin everything?" I piped up.

"Exactly," Nabooru confirmed. "You're a little shit, you know that?" I gave a slow nod. "And since you ruin everything, then I'd be willing to bet you can ruin her."

"A daring proposal," I mocked, not liking the sound of this at all.

"You're not getting out of this, you know," Nabs now explained. "You dug yourself into this hole, and the only way to climb back out of it is to _ensure_ that I win the class election."

"And how am I supposed to do that?!" I now argued. "What do you expect me to do, get the other candidate to- to, I don't know, fall in love with me or something? And then what, break her heart? Crush her spirit, make her cry?!" I ranted angrily, and my face fell suddenly as I took note of Nabooru's expression.

"You can bet your ass that's what I expect you to do," Nabs answered, and her voice was stone cold. She wasn't messing around, not one bit.

"But- but I don't even go to school with you-"

She raised a brow, and pulled an envelope out of her pocket suddenly.

"No- no, no, no-"

"Say hello to your letter of acceptance to Hyrue City Academy, one semester dirt cheap, all thanks to your sister who does her research and knows how to sway an admissions officer with a bad attitude."

I was just shaking my head. "No way. I'm not going there- you can't make me- they wear _blazers_ -"

"Are you saying _no_ to me?" Nabs threatened.

"Uh, yeah. That's exactly what I'm saying."

Nabs just smirked. "Have you ever heard of the term _blackmail_?" she asked suddenly, and my stomach turned.

"You're kidding-" I said, and a secret several years old crept back into my mind and caused me to shiver slightly.

"I haven't forgotten," she now said, "about that incident two years ago. If you want that to stay a secret, then I suggest doing as I say."

Like I said. Apeshit. Freaking. Insane.

"You're blackmailing me into breaking a girl's heart?"

"Yes."

"In three months."

"Three months exactly."

And that's basically how I ended up in Hyrule City Academy's main office less than a week later, face-to-face with the headmaster himself. It was the kind of office filled with thick books and polished furniture and pamphlets reading _Grasp your future at Hyrule City Academy_ , which of course seemed like bullshit at the time but which I would later learn was very, very far from bullshit.

Then there was the headmaster. Just the kind of guy you would not want to cross. He had pale, keen eyes that could stare right through you. I remember how unnerving that gaze seemed to me at first. When he scrutinized me that first day, I immediately jumped to the far-fetched (but probably still true) conclusion that he was attempting to scan my soul, and back at that point in time I wasn't sure exactly what it was about him that made me uncomfortable. Of course I attributed my discomfort to nerves- that was only logical- but I know now that there was true reasoning behind it… reasoning that, in time, would become clear to me.

Once the awkward meeting had been concluded- and it had been awkward, all right, all stiff nods and "Yes, indeeds," and a spiel about grades and work ethic- I departed the office, schedule in hand, and made a beeline down the hall. I don't know where I was trying to go- away from the school, I guess, because I knew that I did not belong in a rich-kid school like this filled with people that actually _tried_ to do things the right way. But Nabs had been on my tail the whole time, and she decided that she would take it upon herself thenceforth to steer me through crowded corridors until she'd located the perfect spot for drop off, which I knew without asking would be probably within a twenty-five foot radius of whatever girl was her competition for class president.

(This twenty-five foot radius would come to be known as the "danger zone" from time to time- but you'll find out why in just a minute or so.)

The airy, arching corridors were packed with neatly dressed students on their way to class. It was the beginning of October and my first day here; Aveil had spent hours readying me for today, ironing my newly acquired uniform and organizing all of my books into a neat leather satchel. She'd dressed me up very nicely and although I'd appreciated the gesture, I was quick to ruin it. As soon as I'd left the apartment complex I unbuttoned my blazer and ruffled out my hair. Just because I was going to an expensive school would not make me a goody-two-shoes. Nothing could do that, I told myself.

We turned into another sunlit corridor. Students were moving in streams toward the classrooms. A pair of girls stumbled in front of us, laughing. A boy crossed their path, blocking the view. The path forward cleared suddenly, allowing a clear view of a girl standing across the hall in the sunlight.

"That girl," I heard Nabooru specify. "She's the one. She's the one running for president… she's the one you need to ruin."

I froze in place, staring at the girl Nabooru had pointed out.

Well, would you look at that.

Oh, Gods. She looked like one of those girls from Blessed Nayru Academy or something. Or maybe Sisters of the Holy Triforce. She had her hair pinned back in a blonde bun, and a pair of glasses rested on her nose. Her uniform was perfectly ironed and buttoned, encompassing thin but dignified shoulders, and she was standing ramrod-straight by a locker, filing through a stack of neatly organized papers. There wasn't a hair out of place.

Also interesting was a dark blue sash, pinned at the waist with a small gold sphere.

"The hell is that around her shoulders?" I asked aloud. "A chastity belt?"

Nabooru snorted. "She's prefect, Gan. She keeps dumbasses like you in line."

"Dumbasses like me," I repeated hollowly. The girl shut her locker and examined the front of it for a second. It looked fine to me, but she raised a finger to it and wiped away a smudge anyway, as if that one smudge on the front of a locker would ruin the rest of her day or something.

I found myself walking forward against my will, walking towards that girl in the sunlight, that girl who was… walking in the other direction.

"Hey, stop!" I called, unable to help myself. One thing that's important to remember about people like me is that we just sort of… _do_. I have a really bad habit of _never freaking thinking_ about something until it's over, and then I think about it a lot- it's a problem, I know it's a problem.

The girl slowed to a stop, the clicking of her heels diminishing as she paused, thin legs freezing. She turned around briskly, eyed me over once, and frowned.

"Button your blazer," she commanded. "And do something about that hair." Then she turned and continued strutting down the hall, eyes staring firmly ahead, books clutched to her chest. What- who the hell did she think she was, anyway?

"Hey- I said stop!" I repeated. She slowed again and turned to face me.

"Do you need something?" Her voice was just freezing cold in nature, almost like she was a robot or something. Her brow was drawn in irritation. When I didn't answer right away, she sighed. "Listen," she said, "I have to be somewhere. I don't have time for you right now. Good day." She started to walk away again.

I glanced over my shoulder, cocking an eyebrow in Nabooru's direction.

 _Is she serious?_ my expression asked. Nabooru just smirked.

Now I chased after this girl. Gods, I didn't even know her name! I trotted down the hall after her, sliding to a stop behind her and gripping her shoulders. She jumped in surprise, the books nearly sliding out of her grip. She stared forward furiously.

"Get your hands off of me," she uttered.

"Miss-"

She whirled around suddenly and stabbed her heel into my toe. I swear to Din, the pain shot right up my spine when she did that. She could have at least warned me.

"Gods _dammit-_ "

"I would appreciate it if you would leave me alone, now," she ordered. _I would appreciate it._ Like I would be doing her a favor if I left her alone. Like her blood wasn't boiling at the sight of me already. _Well, guess what, Princess,_ I thought. _The feeling's mutual._

I didn't call her a princess out loud, of course, because then she'd probably kill me. But she was acting like one, so I let the thought stick in my head for awhile.

"Listen," I finally said. "I just… I'm new here, and I saw you, and I was thinking, you're a pretty nice- well, a very nice- looking girl, you know that?" I glanced at Nabooru again, who was watching in mild amusement. She gave a slow nod. When I turned back to the girl, she was frowning.

"Sure," she finally answered, and her voice was thick with sarcasm. And when I say thick with sarcasm, I mean that she had it down pat. It was like her voice dropped a few octaves when she drawled out the answer. I'd never heard anybody with that much bitterness in their voice. And we're talking about me, here, we're talking about the guy who could crack a joke at a funeral if he wanted to.

...Okay, maybe not a _funeral_ , but a ceremony of comparable solemnity. Like math class.

I'm telling you now, this girl was no goddess, and she wasn't about to fool me into thinking she was. To be honest, in those first few moments I knew her, I could already feel myself kind of disliking her. She seemed coldhearted and bitter. Plus, my toe was probably broken.

There was a flurry of footsteps behind me and suddenly a red blur entered my vision, knocking the girl off her feet as the two stumbled backwards together. The newcomer was giggling about something.

"Zellie!" she exclaimed. "I have the best news! I was talking to Professor Ezlo before about the campaign and he said we could start making posters tomorrow after school! I enlisted the entire art club, they said of course they'll help, they really do love you, Zellie- or maybe they just love me, I don't know- anyway I was…" the girl trailed off as she noticed me, eyes widening into perfect circles. "Oh," she said quietly. "Zel... who's this?"

"Don't mind him, Malon," Zel (Zellie?) answered. "He was just leaving."

Malon was sort of pretty, to be honest. She had these wide blue eyes that looked kind of fogged over sometimes, like she was caught up in her imagination. Her red hair was fiery and wild, her cheeks freckled and bent into an eternal smile. I think I liked her as soon as I met her; there was something about her that was definitely off. In retrospect, I think she was rather mad at times. Unlike the other girl, Malon apparently found me quite interesting.

She took a few steps forward and examined me. Then she took a hold of my blazer and buttoned it up as quickly as she could. When she had finished, she smiled.

"There," she said. "Zelda will like you better now, won't she?" She turned and grinned at her friend.

Zelda, as I learned the blonde girl was called, frowned more than I thought was physically possible. "No," she said. "My decision is final."

Ah, yes. After three consecutive minutes of me tripping over my own words, she had decided with total finality that she would never even consider viewing me in a benign light. Nabs would be proud.

Malon just rolled her eyes. "Don't listen to her," she instructed, pressing forward. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Ganondorf Dragmire," I answered, still somewhat bewildered by how forward she was.

Malon examined me again. Then, she nodded. "Good," she said in approval. "It's a weird sounding name, but you're a weird looking person, so it matches."

"Malon, please. Have some dignity."

I turned my gaze back on Zelda. Her face was out of the ordinary, too; thin, with a long, pinched nose, and pale lips pressed together in a hard line. Her eyes were pale, but I didn't really get to see them as she insisted on averting my gaze.

I nearly jumped out of my skin as the shrill screeching of a bell resounded through the halls. Malon's grin faltered.

"Well," she sighed. "Gotta go to homeroom. See you later, Zel." She moseyed off, humming a tune to herself.

Zelda stood in place while the other students scurried to class.

"Well?" I said after a second. "Aren't you going to go, too?"

She sighed in exasperation. "I'm hall monitor, Mr. Dragmire. I make rounds while everyone else is in homeroom."

I paused. "Oh. So that means-"

"Get to homeroom," she clarified. "Unless you'd rather I turn you in?"

I smirked. "You don't scare me," I said, leaning in a little. I lowered my voice, hoping it might sound gruff or smoky or something. I don't know. I mean, I'm not a girl, but I assumed that when Zelda finally realized I'd been trying all this time to flirt with her, she'd loosen up a bit and maybe give me some well-deserved but also well-meaning snark.

Instead, her resolve stiffened. "No," she answered coolly. "I suppose I'll have to work on that."

"There's always room for improvement," I persisted, reaching forward. I don't know what I planned to do at that point- maybe touch her hair or something, other girls loved it when I touched their hair- but she just jumped back almost instinctively, slapping my hand away with such force that it stung and glowed red with irritation. And it should have registered right then and there that there was something wrong here- that she was jumpy- anxious- that she hated being touched.

And yet nothing registered, and I carried on with my dumbassery.

"Get to homeroom or I'll report you," she now explained, and at this point she was very short on patience. (Rightfully so, too.)

"You wouldn't," I mocked stupidly.

"I would."

That was a genuine threat, not a meager attempt at flirtation.

"Zelda!" The call came from the other end of the hallway. We both glanced up to see the headmaster glaring down at us. "Zelda," he repeated, "why haven't you started your rounds?! Leave the boy alone, you're running late already!"

Her confidence faltered for a second and she hung her head just the slightest bit. "Yes, Father," she answered. She gave me one last glare and then strutted off, shoulders not as high as they had been thirty seconds ago. The headmaster turned his eye on me and again I got that weird feeling that he could see right through me. Then he harrumphed and walked away in turn.

I stood there for a second, trying to wipe the blatantly shocked expression from my face. Nabooru materialized in my line of vision bearing a devilish smirk.

"Oh, yeah," Nabooru snickered, "one last thing." She narrowed her eyes slyly. "Zelda's the headmaster's daughter."

Sweet Sister Hylia, did I have my work cut out for me.

 

 


	2. Why the Harkinians are Probably Robots

Day two.

Today was going to be different. I was going to make some serious progress today—I mean, I had my blazer buttoned and everything. Plus, my hair was slicked back. I mean, I looked like the freaking lovechild of a shampoo commercial and an insurance commercial. Girls love that kind of stuff, right?

Wrong.

The first thing Zelda said when she saw me that next morning was, "Go away." Not that I blame her, I mean, I was in the way of her locker. But I figured she would need to get inside there at one point, so when she did she'd be forced to take a gander at my well-kept features.

Now, don't get me wrong. I can pretentious at times, but I'm not vain. I tried being vain once- it didn't work. I took really good care of my skin; dressed nicely, even did my hair. Apparently I sent out the wrong message, because after a few days the town creeper—his name's Ghirahim— started shamelessly flirting with me. Haven't gone back since. (Note: Ghirahim kind of looks like a flamboyant clown. If you see him, _stay away_.)

Anyway, Zelda got really frustrated after that.

"I thought I got rid of you in the hallway yesterday," she mumbled when I refused to budge.

"Nah. I'm pretty persistent, actually. I don't do well with authority. Not a rule follower, to be honest. Never have been, never will be."

"If you don't move, I'll—"

"—Report me to the professors," I finished. "Yeah, I know." Her lips pursed in anger and I let out a long, dramatic sigh. "As you wish, Your Majesty," I finally said with a sidestep.

"Please don't call me that," she said quickly, attending to her lock.

"Fine, Zelda."

Her eyes fell shut in exasperation and I could see her teeth clench. After a split-second, she let out a puff of air and drew the locker open.

"I take it you have something to talk about, since you refuse to leave," she said, sliding books out of the locker and into her waiting arms.

"Perhaps."

"Well? Out with it, then. My patience is running thin."

I smirked. "And snarky, to boot. I like it."

For the very first time she looked me in the eye. Her eyes were actually quite stunning: a clear, icy blue color that gazed with a cold intensity. Those eyes were so interesting to me, and for awhile, I didn't quite know why. Perhaps because she used them as a shield. She always looked like she meant business, like she didn't have time for my bullshit games. Gods, those eyes were terrifying. They thrilled me. Who knew that a girl could harbor such passion, such determination?

It sent me weak at the knees, because in that moment I was almost positive that Zelda Harkinian was indestructible.

I was drawn out of my trance when someone called me to my senses. It was a new voice, somebody I hadn't met yet. I glanced up, irritated. Some slick-haired guy—even slicker haired than _me_ —was eyeing me coolly.

"Hey!" he called. "Are you picking on Zelda?"

Zelda rolled her eyes. "Go away, Link. I can handle him myself."

"Link?" I repeated. "Zelda, you didn't tell me you had a boyfriend!" I scrutinized him. Impeccably ironed clothes, a tight scowl, and a helmet of stiffly-gelled hair. "Bit of a tightass, though," I added.

"He's _not_ my boyfriend," Zelda clarified. "He's my _brother_."

Oh. I guess that made a little more sense. They looked similar; their faces were alike, and they both had that white-blonde hair.

Gods, Link kept looking at me. He looked almost baffled. Finally, I groaned.

"Hey, you," I said, calling him back to attention. "Quit staring, or I might start to think you're checking me out."

Link narrowed his eyes. "You want to play that game? Fine."

Now Zelda was doubly-aggravated. "Calm down, Link," she insisted. "Get out of here, or I'll report you both. Is that what you want?"

We both glanced around. The hallways were packed with students; getting into a fight would just lead to more trouble. Not to mention that we had Hyrule City's Queen Bee glaring at the both of us, ready to smack us both across the head. So I just looked at Zelda, who I was starting to despise, and Link, who I was pretty sure I _already_ despised, and then I stormed off down the hall, throwing my arms toward the ceiling as if in surrender.

…

The rest of the morning went by slowly. Since Zelda was a senior and I was only a junior, she and I didn't share any classes. I suppose it gave me plenty of time to plot; I kept thinking of ways to get her attention, ways to make her give in. The faster she fell for me, the faster I could break up with her, and that sounded like a pretty good deal to me. I let my imagination run wild during my dumb composition class.

The instructor's name was Ezlo—I affectionately called him 'teach' in my head, as I tended to do with all professors—and he was absolutely out of his mind. He always went off on tangents during class, his conversations never ending up close to how they had started. He kept going on and on about the "price of success" and the "value of strife." He was this tiny old man with a green flat cap that he always wore a little crooked. He liked to smile and I could tell he always had because there were crinkles around his eyes. From years of smiling, I reckon.

Sometimes old Ezlo had to stand on a chair to get our attention because he was so short. When he sat, he plopped a stack of books on his stool so that he'd be up to our height. There was a part of me that, even after only a few classes, admired him, but I mostly figured he was insane. So I tried not to admire him _too_ much.

When class got out that day, I rushed to gather my books. I had lunch next and was eager to get a move on. Academy classes were _hard_ and my brain was already fried. Unfortunately for me, Ezlo halted me at the door before I could make a break for it.

"I hope you're liking it so far," he said when I asked him what was up.

"What—the school?"

"No, the feather bonnet I left under your chair."

He said it with a totally straight face. When I couldn't find the words to respond, he just snorted.

"Of course the school! Our beloved Hyrule City Academy is an enchanting place, filled to the brim with history… I assume you are going to be staying for awhile?"

"Not sure," I answered as the room cleared out, leaving just Ezlo and I. The professor cocked an eyebrow.

"Not sure? Why not?"

"Money," I answered, and he nodded in understanding.

"I had your sister last year," he now mused. "She was bright, yes, very bright. A talented writer, too, although I don't think she liked it very much. What about yourself? Are you at all inclined toward writing?"

Oh, so _that's_ what this was about. Whether or not I took after my exalted sister.

"I'm not good at anything, Tea- Professor," I answered after a moment of hesitation.

There was a twinkle in the old man's eye when I spoke. "Oh," he said after a moment, "we'll see about that."

…

Next to the entrance hall, the dining hall was probably the most cavernous and aesthetically appealing room in the castle. (Did I say castle? I meant academy.) One nice thing about it was that they served meals on a daily basis, and the food was pretty good. It wasn't like my old place, where they'd serve sludge on a tray. Every. Single. Day. I qualified for free lunches there—can't help that Nabs and Aveil could barely scrape in the money to feed us, much less pay the rent.

But the food here was good. I always felt a bit sickly at the old place—malnutrition, I think. But after the first few days of Hyrule City Academy, I could feel myself gaining a little more energy, a little more strength. As much as I hated my reasons for being here, I think that I recognized early on that this new place might actually do me some good.

And not just because there were girls in pencil skirts.

The Academy didn't serve food like the old place did; instead of a line, the food was set out in a buffet and you just nicked whatever you liked and set it on your plate. It was a lot easier, a lot swifter, I think, than a lunch line. I picked up my plate from one end of the table, loaded the dish up, and then- balancing the load best I could- made the trek towards the center of the dining hall.

The hall had a high, vaulted ceiling supported by Gothic-styled beams. Arched windows lined the hall, warm white sunlight streaming through onto the mill of students down below. There were three long wooden tables that stretched lengthwise across the room, and the rumble of student chatter filled the air; overall, it was a lively, light hearted room.

The only problem was, I didn't have anyone to sit with. I'd been allowed to sit with Nabooru yesterday, but I doubted she would let me sit there again. I found her table anyway, placing down my plate tentatively to see if she would react.

"No," she said immediately, even though my plate had barely touched the table.

"Why not?"

"Because you're a boy, and boys aren't allowed to sit with us," Nabooru explained. She gestured to the girls sitting around her. "You see them?" she asked. "They're a part of the Organization for the Rights of Gerudo Youth. And since the organization only applies to women, you're not allowed to join in." She paused. "We cut you some slack yesterday, but it's not happening again," she decided.

I sighed. "Well where am I _supposed_ to sit?" I complained.

"I don't know. The floor?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Not amusing, Nabs." She gave a small smirk and rolled her eyes. She stood up suddenly, scanning the hall for someone. Her eyes lit up when she hit her target, and she wagged a finger in that direction.

"Look!" she said. "Zelda's sitting over there. Go flirt with her."

I felt my stomach turn.

"Do I _have_ to?"

"What is it now?" Nabooru accused. "Afraid of her already?"

"Not afraid of her," I explained. "Just tired of her. All she does is yell at me... gets on your nerves after awhile."

"You could try being nice," one of Nabooru's friends piped up.

"I _did_ try being nice. I told her she was good looking, that's pretty nice."

The girls surrounding Nabooru let out a collective sigh.

"You're doing it all wrong!" one of them announced, and I stared at her in confusion.

"What does that mean?"

"Girls don't want to be valued for their looks, they want to be valued for their personalities!" Nabooru explained. "By complimenting her aesthetic appeal, you were objectifying her. Girls don't want to be objectified, they want to be important!"

That seemed pretty hypocritical to me, since Nabooru was the one who wanted me to treat Zelda like a prop in the first place. Nevertheless, I decided to take their advice. Not really wanting to spend anymore time around Zelda but figuring persistence was key, I moseyed over in Zelda's direction.

She was sitting alone. I figured that nobody had shown up yet since I had seen her sitting with Link and Malon yesterday. She wasn't really eating; she had a plate, but it had gone untouched. Instead, she was poring over a stack of handwritten notes.

I took a deep breath and walked over, setting down my tray and plopping down in the chair across from her. I swear to the Din, that girl didn't miss a beat. Before my butt had even hit the chair, she was on her feet, swiping her books and plate into her arms and marching away wordlessly. I sighed and watched her go, not really up to following her. A few seconds later, somebody new entered my line of vision.

"Where did Zelda go? I swear she was here a minute ago."

I glanced up. Malon was standing where Zelda had been only seconds before, looking at me inquisitively. She had a plate balanced on one hand, a stack of heavy, colorful books on the other.

"I sat down and she left," I recounted. "Guess she's just too in love with me to handle me..." I sighed dramatically. Malon giggled and, much to my surprise, took the seat that Zelda had abandoned only seconds before.

"I'm Malon," she said, and I just smiled.

"I know," I answered, watching her as she set her books to the side and took the lid off of a cup to reveal a watery green liquid.

"What is-"

"I'm a vegan," she explained quickly, "and _this_ is asparagus soup. Care for a slurp?"

I frowned. "No."

"Your loss." She filled the spoon with some of the liquid and then stuck the spoon in her mouth, leaving it there as she reached over to open one of her brilliantly colored books. She flipped through a few pages before landing on one that seemed to satisfy her. She had been focusing on something for a few seconds before I decided to interrupt her reading.

"Malon?"

She removed the spoon from her mouth. "Yes?" she answered, glancing up with wide, bright eyes.

"Why does Zelda... How come Zelda... she kind of, why does she-"

"-Hate you so much?" Malon cut in.

"Yeah. That."

She seemed to consider it for a minute, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers as she pondered my question. "I think," she said, her voice airy, "that you bother her because you're... different. You two aren't anything alike; you don't fit her mold."

That was the first time anyone had used that word to describe Zelda's lifestyle. _Mold_. Malon put it like Zelda and Link were processed, programmed, like robots. It was like they had been created in a factory; their father's factory, I assumed. They were raised to be just one certain way; to differentiate would be to cut themselves off.

"I suppose the headmaster has something to do with Zelda's attitude," I surmised.

"Oh, certainly."

"And her mom?" I asked. Malon bowed her head, giving a short, wordless shrug. "Oh," I answered quietly. "No mom. Same here."

Malon took a thoughtful slurp of soup. Once she had swallowed, she grinned. "You know," she mused, "you're not nearly as bad as Zelda's been saying you are."

"What's she been saying?" I asked, not sure whether I wanted to know the answer.

"Oh, that you're a bully. That you won't respect her personal space, that you prevent her from getting things done, that you're a distraction..."

"A distraction, huh?" I asked with a smirk. "Sounds like progress."

Malon giggled. "Anyway, my point is, I don't see why she hates you. I think you're perfectly friendly. A little weird, though."

Wait. What? _Me_ , weird? Sheesh.

"I'm having a bonfire this Saturday," Malon informed me, "want to come?"

"I don't know. Who'll be there?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. Whoever knows about it. My parents are out of town, so my sister Cremia and I are taking advantage of it. We live awhile out of the city. My father owns Lon Lon Ranch, so..."

I almost choked on my fork at that. "Lon Lon Ranch? Like, the major farming corporation? With the Lon Lon Milk gallons lining grocery shelves? With the _Chateau Romani_ commercials?"

"Um. Yeah, I guess," Malon answered with a shrug. "Anyway, you're invited."

She shrugged all that off like it was _no big deal_. But her father was a multi-millionaire- didn't she care? (Was _everyone_ a millionaire here?)

"Yeah," I now said. "Count me in." I finished speaking, the _click click click_ of someone's heels calling me to attention. Malon and I glanced over to view a very irritated Zelda glaring at both of us accusingly.

"I didn't realize you two were friends," she said, a sharp edge to her voice.

"We weren't until now," Malon clarified. "You know, Ganondorf's really nice-"

" _Malon_ ," Zelda cut in, and I could hear the bitterness spilling out in each syllable. "Let's go."

"Not jealous, are you?" I joked as Malon was starting to stand up. Zelda didn't even bother to react. She just helped Malon gather her books and made to walk away.

"Wait!" I called. Zelda halted and turned, eyebrows raised.

"What, Mr. Dragmire?"

"I was wondering whether you needed a date to Malon's bonfire this weekend!" I said. A few nearby kids who had been paying attention to the conversation snickered before turning away. Zelda just rolled her eyes and stalked away. Apparently, she didn't feel like dealing with me any more.

"Let me know if you change your mind!" I yelled towards her retreating figure. And then I returned to my lunch, absolutely certain that Zelda Harkinian was, by all definitions, a robot. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This fic was originally posted on FanFiction.net in 2013, so it's a little dated. I'm transporting it over here because it really was near and dear to my heart, and I want it to be accessible to the Zelgan fandom here as well as on FFN.
> 
> Warnings for anyone who might be sensitive: 
> 
> There will be allusions to (but not graphic descriptions of) rape, racism, drugs, and alcohol. Several characters will be subject to domestic violence, one of them an LGBT character. As I stated, none of these instances will be described in detail, but I just want readers to be forewarned!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy the chapters to come.


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